


A Retelling

by Skyril



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: A little angst, Angst, F/M, Fire Emblem FF, Fire Emblem Fates fanfiction, Fire Emblem Jakob and Corrin fanfiction, Fire Emblem fanfiction, Fluff, Jakob and Corrin fanfiction, Joker - Freeform, Joker and Corrin fan-fiction, Kamui - Freeform, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:32:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyril/pseuds/Skyril
Summary: This is a story of reversed roles in which Jakob is the prince and Corrin, his maid.Though their situations are completely opposite, one aspect that will never change is that they are both very much in love with one another.But with Jakob convinced she's in love with Silas, and Corrin certain a prince could never love a maid, will they ever realize their true feelings?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This thing has gone through so many edits and revisions. Seriously, huge chunks deleted, thousands of words added, bits and pieces salvaged, paragraphs re-written, re-worded, completely removed, or newly added. Sentences scrutinized, conversations shredded, dialogue improved. Down to each word, changed, deleted, flipped, tweaked... As much as I edit, I've never re-worked _anything_ as much as I have this one. I've literally been working on it off and on for MONTHS, way longer than I've ever worked on any other fanfiction before.
> 
> After all the insanity I went through, I'd LIKE to say that it's now my shining masterpiece, that I've never created anything as perfect and beautiful as this. Alas, after banging and beating and twisting and molding it, there still remains a rebellious sprite possessing this script and laughing at my efforts...
> 
> The most I can say is...  
> I've done my best.  
> I hope you enjoy ^.^
> 
> P.S. This all started in the first place because of this beautiful artwork:  
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/9a/81/18/9a811803d87b924305eb1c5c3e6929ae.png

“Corrin,” Jakob’s voice stopped her before she could leave.

“Yes, my Lord?”

She smiled softly at him, and that’s all it took for him to lose his courage.

The words trembled on his lips, then stopped altogether. His gaze flickered away, towards the window, his hands clasping behind his back. A dozen times at least he had tried to tell her, only to doubt and back out at the last second. “… Nothing. I beg your pardon. You may go.” He was frustrated with himself, but… How _could_ he tell her when he was almost certain she harbored feelings for another? If… If Jakob were to be rejected or if she decided could no longer remain at the Fortress because she felt uncomfortable with his _too warm_ attachment, he didn’t know how he would forgive himself.

“Oh, before I do,” she replied. “I almost forgot to tell you…” 

Sensing an undertone of hesitancy in her tone, Jakob put aside his thoughts and spared her a glance. “Yes?”

“Ah.” She twisted her skirt in her hands. “I have to go into town for a short while tomorrow, so I asked if Felicia would bring your breakfast to you then... Is that alright?”

Honestly, his first thought was, _oh no, not Felicia_. But then Corrin going to town caught his notice. “What? Town? Whatever for?”

“Well—I…” Was he mistaken or was that a… a _blush_ rising in her cheeks? “It’s a… _personal_ matter, my Lord.” 

A personal matter…? What could she be—Then it hit him, and his face darkened, a scowl rising. He turned away again.

Her going into town for a ‘personal matter’ could mean only one thing. She had some sort of plans with Silas.

His maid and the young noble had met years ago when Silas had been brought to the castle to be a companion for Jakob. Silas and Corrin had become friends quickly, but Jakob never could stand him. The fact that he had talked and laughed with Corrin while she worked didn’t improve things either, and Silas was sent away soon after. Unfortunately, Silas and Corrin’s friendship persevered. She saw him every chance she got. Jakob was certain Silas was infatuated with her, and he often worried Corrin might share his attachment.

Jakob’s mood soured when he knew they were together. But he couldn’t _refuse_ to let her go. What would he even say to her? What excuse could he give that he hadn’t used before and that wouldn’t announce to everyone that he was actually… _Yes_ , he admitted, _jealous_.

He heaved a sigh. “ _Must_ it be Felicia? She is graceless. I haven’t the faintest idea why she chose a profession in which she must carry things to and fro when she can hardly get through a single day without tripping at least—At least three times!” _And breaking every bit of china this castle has…_

“ _Four_ times, actually” Corrin corrected with a chuckle. “At least four times.”

Jakob spared her a small sideways smile. “You see what I mean?” He fiddled with the buttons of his vest. “Are you… _sure_ you must go?” It was a pathetic attempt, he knew, but he couldn’t help at least trying.

Corrin’s face fell, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no. “Well it’s…” she said. “It’s _very_ important to me to go, Lord Jakob, but… only if it’s alright with you, of course.” The Prince snorted. It wasn’t entirely alright with him, no. “But I’ll…” she continued after his pause. “I’ll return before the book club this afternoon…” Her voice hovered on the edge of hope, her hands clasped in front of her like a prayer.

“Well, in that case…” He sighed again before giving her his warmest smile. “I will just have to count the minutes until your return.”

He could be wrong, but he thought, perhaps, that her blush deepened just a little bit… She certainly seemed to find the floor very interesting anyway. “Until then, my Lord.” She curtseyed and hurried out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her, and leaving Jakob staring at it with something like longing in his eyes.

***

The next morning, Corrin was in town by the fountain, anxiously looking up at the sun peeking through the ever-present Nohrian clouds. Where was he? It was getting late, and if Corrin was ever going to get Jakob’s birthday present and return to the castle before the book club, she had to go _now_. She searched the faces of the crowd, but Silas’s gray tuft of hair was nowhere in sight… She started thinking, perhaps, that maybe she should go without him… She hated the thought of disappearing without even telling him _why_ she couldn’t stay, but… 

Hands covered her eyes, and Corrin flinched with alarm. But then a playful voice murmured near her ear, “Guess who.”

Relief swept through her, and she laughed. “Silas!” She pulled his hands from her face, turning to look at him, and he grinned and hugged her briefly. “You’re late!” She chided. “I was just thinking about leaving without you.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I was held up at the temple. A man’s leg was crushed under his cart, and it took just about everyone’s help to repair what we could of the damage.”

Corrin grimaced, guilty. All _she_ was trying to do was get back to her prince for a book club while Silas was dealing with tragedy and heart ache. She touched his arm. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been impatient. That was thoughtless of me.”

“Nonsense.” Silas’s warm hand slid over hers. “You could never be thoughtless. In fact, I’ve never met a more caring soul.”

She smiled even though he was only trying to assuage her shame. 

“How _are_ you enjoying life at the temple?” She asked after a moment, drawing her hand back into her lap. “I know it was difficult at first... Has it gotten any easier?”

He considered, his head tilting side to side. “In some ways, yes, but in others… Well, I don’t think it will ever get much easier.” His expression clouded briefly with sadness. Loss filled his strangely darkened eyes, eyes that Corrin had never seen dark when they were younger.

Then it passed, and he was smiling at her again. “I have to say, though—no other work is more rewarding, and I _still_ think you should give up life in that cold castle and come join me in the temple.” His lips curled slightly, and he reached forward to brush his fingers lightly across her cheek. “With your tender heart, you would be an _amazing_ cleric.”

Corrin looked away, a blush rising in her cheeks. She was trying to hide it, but she was discomfited by his comment and his tender touch. This wasn’t the first time he had recommended a change of position, and it was never painless to turn him down… As much as she tried to pretend she didn’t, she knew, in this proposition, there was a… a deeper question, a more meaningful offer…

He cared about her, but she couldn’t return the feelings he sought. Not when she was in love with someone else, even though she knew that love was inappropriate. “That’s sweet of you, Silas, but I could never leave—” the pause was microscopic “—the castle.”

“With that overlord?” Silas teased, a sharp smile cloaking his words in humor. He had probably caught the slight hesitancy between her words.

Her face warmed further, and she took a breath to quell her irritation. “He’s _not_ an overlord, Silas. He can be cutting sometimes, I grant you, but that’s mostly bluster to disguise how much he really cares.” Silas gave her a skeptical look. “Trust me,” she told him. “I know him better than anyone.”

He grunted, his hand sliding through his hair and doing nothing to tame it. “Well, enough talk,” he said. “We were going to find a birthday present, weren’t we?”

Corrin almost sighed, happy the previous subject had been dropped. “Yes, but, actually, I already know what I’m getting him. I just couldn’t afford it when I first saw it.” Her heart picked up at the thought of it… of getting it… of _giving_ it to him… Gods, she hoped he liked it.

“So it’s something expensive?”

“Well, a little bit, yes… It’s a brooch. A green brooch. I just saw it in a window, and… I don’t know.” She stared off into the distance, her lips twitching. “I just thought he would like it.”

“…I see.” His words broke her slight trance, and she glanced down at their hands as he laced his through hers. “What are we waiting around here for then? Let’s go get it.”

She swallowed and nodded, forcing a smile on her face. “Yes, of course. It’s not far. This way.” She could probably have dropped his hand anytime she chose, but somehow… she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was her friend, a dear friend, and she really didn’t want to hurt him more than necessary. Besides, it wasn’t far, and as soon as they arrived outside the shop, she had a better excuse for letting go. “This is it.”

Silas stared up at the building with surprise. “Golly, you’re buying something from here? This place is for the rich. How on earth can you afford it?”

“I’ve been saving up.” She answered, a little defensively. “I wanted to get him something _nice_ this year.”

He shook his head at her in amazement. “The Overlord doesn’t deserve you.” 

“Shut up, you.” She punched his arm and tried to ignore his laughter. “I’m only a maid, but he’s… he’s always treated me like family, ever since we were little. I just wanted to show him I appreciate it all, ok? Stop calling him that!”

He raised his hands in surrender, and she pointed the brooch out to him. It was a gold-rimmed oval with some kind of green stone in the middle. Silas thought, perhaps, it was jade. In any case, it was very beautiful, and also appeared very expensive. “Do you think he’ll like it?” She asked, butterflies rising in her stomach.

Silas smiled. “If it’s from you, I think he’ll love it.” But his words didn’t register. She was staring at the gift and thinking of Jakob and wondering… wondering what he would say.

When they went inside, the owner, a tall, thin, sneering sort of man, peered down his nose at them both, his eyes scanning their modest clothing. But once Corrin placed her coins in front of him and told him what she wanted, he suddenly grew much more courteous. 

He carefully took the brooch from the window, packaging it in a small white box with soft cotton and tying a black ribbon round it. Corrin thanked him and left the shop with the box clutched in her hands, a grin of excitement on her lips.

“Well then,” Silas commented when they were back on Main Street. “There goes half a year of savings at least.”

“If Lord Jakob likes it, then it’s worth it.” The words flew from her mouth without an ounce of hesitation. She really did mean it. All this time… All these years… She had never met _anyone_ like Jakob… and she would do anything to make him happy.

They reached the fountain again and paused there. “Now that you’ve gotten what you came for,” Silas murmured. “I suppose you have to get back now.”

She glanced up at the sky and sighed. “I really do. I’m already late.” She turned to him. “See you next time I’m in town?”

“Mm,” he grunted in what Corrin took as an affirmative.

“Thank you for coming with me today…” Although, after all, perhaps it had been a bad idea on her part. She had just hoped to spend a little time with her friend while she was there.

“It was my pleasure…” Silas smiled. “And… Corrin.” He glanced awkwardly away. “If you thought you might ever change your mind… You know, about joining me in the temple—I-I just wanted to tell you that…” He took a breath and looked her in the eye. “I could wait for you.”

She was biting her lip. Hard. It hurt, and she found she liked the pain. She shifted her feet, regret wallowing in the pit of her stomach. How could she—? What could she say? She searched for an answer to give. 

Silas was a _good_ man… So very good and kind. He would love her forever if she let him, but how could she? How could she even give him hope when someone else possessed her heart so fully and completely? Silas deserved someone who would love him more than anyone… Someone who would love him like _she_ loved Jakob. “Silas…” It was hard to speak, but she had to tell him the truth. She had to tell him now. “Thank you, but you have to know... I-I _won’t_ change my mind. I really—I-I never will, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head like it was nothing, but his face was reddening with embarrassment, and Corrin hated herself. “I understand,” he said. “I do.” He laughed ironically. “Probably better than anyone, actually.” He combed his fingers through his hair and coughed slightly. “I didn’t _think_ you would, but I just—if there had been any chance… But I—I understand.”

Her heart ached. “I’m sorry Silas.”

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Corrin.” He smiled, but it was a sad smile, and Corrin only hurt all the more to see it.

Unable to speak further, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug, and, surprisingly, he returned it. Then she pulled back, managing to say, “I’ll see you later, Silas.” She saw him nod once before she turned and walked away. She could feel his eyes boring into her back, but she didn’t look back. She couldn’t. As much as she loved her friend, she loved Jakob so much more, the sorrow in her heart couldn’t match the confidence in her step.

***

Felicia’s foot caught on a stack of books. She lost her balance, stumbled, tripped, fell onto a book case, and collapsed onto the floor with most of the books crashing on top of her. A moan escaped her lips just as a sigh escaped Jakob’s.

Biting back a reprimand, he snapped his book shut and helped her and her sister re-shelve the books, ignoring her stammering apologies as he did so.

It had been a long, _long_ day, and Corrin still wasn’t back. She was very late, and night was descending outside. Jakob’s distaste for Silas was was only tempered by his anger for keeping Corrin out so late that she had to return home part of the way in darkness.

If Silas had _had_ to see her so badly, the least he could have done was let her return to the castle at a reasonable hour. _A true gentleman would have,_ Jakob scoffed.

Then there was the question of what they had been doing all this time… A question Jakob did _not_ like to consider.

Sitting again at the window and forcing his clenched fists to relax, Jakob looked out at the road. What little twilight that remained was nearly blocked by the clouds. Thunder rumbled threateningly in the distance. _If she doesn’t return in the next ten minutes,_ he decided, _I’m going out to find her. I won’t have her caught in this storm._

_‘Private matter’, she had said. ‘It was very important to her’… What kind of day did the two have planned? She must have known something special was happening, and she didn’t want to tell me about it. Perhaps…_ Jakob mused. _Silas finally decided to propose to her._

HIs frown deepened subconsciously, his eyes freezing on a speck of dust in the glass. 

Corrin. Engaged to Silas. It wouldn’t even surprise him if she came back with a ring on her finger. He had been half expecting it for some time. However, that didn’t stop the hopelessness or jealousy or even the terrible sensation of his heart splitting into bits at the thought.

The prince heaved a soulful sigh and rubbed his eyes wearily. For what could he do? Tell her she wasn’t _allowed_ to marry the man she loved? What right did he have to command that injustice? He had neither claim on her person nor hold on her heart, and she would only hate him if he tried to force them apart… And he could never, ever let that happen... Besides, he couldn’t deny her the happiness she deserved all because he wasn’t entirely sure how he could go on without her—her soft smiles, without her laugh, her flowery fragrance, her determination, and her never-ending positivity. Could he? _Of course you can’t._

Gods, but that didn’t stop him from wishing on every star in the sky that she wouldn’t say yes.

_Please, Corrin. Don’t marry Silas. I’ll be happy if I can just… have you nearby_. He stared out of the window, eyes searching, both longing and fearing to see her appear. More than anything, he just wanted her back home, safe and close.

The door swung open as if she could hear his thoughts, and Corrin appeared like a blessed genie from her bottle. Jakob found himself on his feet, fighting to urge to run to her and wrap her in his arms. Instead, he shut his eyes and took a slow breath of relief. She was safe.

“Oh!” yelped Felicia, startled by Corrin’s sudden entrance. And then, “I’m so glad you made it back before the rain!” Flora mildly looked up from her book and nodded, a welcoming smile on her face. 

“As am I.” Corrin briefly returned Flora’s smile before turning her eyes to Jakob. “I am so sorry I’m late. Everything just… took a little longer than I thought it would.”

Jakob sat again and retrieved his book like he hadn’t been bothered at all. He glanced at her. “Oh, that’s alright. We were taking this time to read our own choices. Of course, now that you’re back, we’ll return to _The Cursed Life of Mr. Williams…_ After all, we must find out what has become of his fiancé, mustn’t we?” He winked teasingly.

Corrin’s face slackened, relieved he was sure, that he wasn’t angry with her. She took a seat at a table nearby and replied, “Ever since last book club, I’ve been _dying_ to know.” She ran her fingers through her wind-blown hair, and Jakob leaned on his hand, his eyes caught in the motion, his mind thinking how nice it would be to do the same.

He blinked. He cleared his throat, glancing down at his book, and dared the subject. “So… How did everything… _go_ … in town?” 

“Oh, it... It went fine,” she answered.

It went… fine. What did that mean?

“Mm.” He only then remember to search her hands for a ring, but somehow he noticed his book was upside down and quickly flipped it, flustered. “So, no… _news_ of any sort then?”

“News?” She looked up, and Jakob flinched, ducking behind his book and feeling completely foolish the moment he did. “No. there’s no news. Nothing… new. I just—I saw Silas for a little while.”

The prince’s knuckles turned white on the cover of the book. This revelation was, of course, unsurprising, but that didn’t make it any less unwelcome. “Ah,” he grunted. “And how is that… What is he? A monk?”

“Priest.”

“—Priest, then. No wife yet?” He wasn’t entirely sure he kept _all_ the malice from his tone.

“…No…” she mumbled. “No wife… unfortunately.” Jakob froze, his heart sinking low. He stared sightlessly at the blurring words on the page before him, dissecting the tone of her voice. There had been sadness… regret. She was… _sad_ Silas hadn’t asked her to marry him. Jakob swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing past his suddenly tight throat. 

He took a breath and regarded her over the top of his book… She was depressed, maybe even… wistful. And his eyes shut, his body curling in on itself, his stomach roiling with unpleasant emotions. 

_She_ is _in love with Silas…_

Jakob had known this. He had _known_. So why was he finding it so difficult to breathe? Why did it feel like his heart was _breaking_ in his chest? 

He. Had. To stay. Calm. He couldn’t… couldn’t break down here, now, with Corrin only feet away. _You always knew she couldn’t stay with you forever… No matter how much you wished she would_. He put his nose in the book and took slow breaths, the musty, woody scent steadying him.

Then a sorrowful sort of sound from Corrin drew his attention. His pain sharpened but in a different way.

Jakob was in love with her. Beyond any shadow of a doubt. He had been for… Well, a very, _very_ long time… But _she_ … She was in love with someone else. _Silas_. And he hadn’t proposed yet. Why _hasn’t he proposed yet?_ Jakob saw the pain in Corrin’s eyes, and two, suddenly very strong realizations knocked the air from Jakob’s lungs. 

First, his beloved Corrin was meant for another. 

Second, Jakob would do _anything_ to make her happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry about that. I had a busy few days, and it took me much longer than I expected to edit and finally get the chance to post this!
> 
> The third chapter shouldn't take so long. ^.^

Jakob was pacing, prowling his quarters like a beast, his head bowed in thought, his fists tensing and relaxing again and again and again.

Two and a half weeks had passed, and Corrin had had no opportunity of returning to town. Jakob was on the point of snapping. He couldn’t _bear_ to see her smiles every day when he knew there was no chance of having her. When he knew she loved _Silas_. 

And she had to marry him and be happy! That would be better. He paused in his pacing. _That would be better, wouldn’t it?_ Her happiness for his… A fair exchange. _No, of course, it has to be this way_. He had been taking care of her as much as she had been taking care of him since they were children, and he wasn’t about to fail her now. She was more important to him, and if her happiness meant leaving him forever, than he would let her go.

Somehow.

He flinched at the knock on his door, straightened, and turned as Corrin entered.

“Good morning, Lord Jakob. You’re up early.” He was, really. Usually it was Corrin herself who woke him and sometimes physically _dragged_ him from bed to change his sheets. He’d land on the floor with a grunt, then groan at her, _I_ am _the prince in this fortress, you know._

_Oh really?_ Corrin would laugh. _Well then I guess it’s a good thing you’re a nice prince then._

He’d snort. _Nice? Who claims I’m nice?_

She gave him her lovely smile. _I do._

“I… wasn’t feeling well,” he said truthfully, pulling himself back to the present. “Couldn’t sleep.” Not with her on his mind or Silas in his nightmares.

“Oh,” she cooed, concerned, her smile slipping into a line of worry. She closed the short distance between them, raised her hand, and pressed it to his forehead.

Jakob stiffened. She was checking for a fever, obviously, but she was… suddenly so… so _close_ , her cute little nose a few mere inches from his lips. He warmed, heating at the touch of her palm, one cool on his forehead, the other curled around his arm to steady herself. “Are you alright?” She asked. “Do you feel ill? Are you—” She glanced at him, and her eyes… _widened_ , ever-so-slightly. She’d noticed then, just how near they actually were... Close enough to share breath. 

Close enough to do other things too. Jakob swallowed. 

Whatever question Corrin was about to ask died on her lips… pink and soft. Jakob’s senses revved, pins stabbing into his flesh, prickles so acute they almost hurt. Corrin chewed lightly on her lower lip, a nervous habit of hers, and it took him a ridiculous amount of willpower to lift his eyes to meet her again. But when he did, she blinked, startled, whatever trance she had been under broken, and her hands jerked away. She stumbled back a pace, and Jakob grit his teeth against the almost overpowering urge to grab her wrist and yank her back.

“F-Forgive me, my Lord,” she stuttered, looking away. 

He struggled to find his tongue, too flustered to form a sentence. “N-No—“ He shook his head, but Corrin was already moving. She strode to his mussed bed and started ripping the sheets from it violently. “You feel like you might have a slight fever.” 

_A slight fever?_ His frazzled mind thought. _Yes… of course_. That made sense. Although he would have said _extremely_ feverish.

“I’ll have Cook make some soup.” She dropped the used sheets in to a pile on the floor. She pulled out new ones, and Jakob turned from her, his jaw clenched, his nails biting into fisted hands. He stared out the window hardly blinking and yet saw nothing.

“I’m fine.” He waved her concerns off as steadily as he could. “There’s no need.” His breathing was ragged, his heart was racing, he felt like he had just fallen down a flight of stairs. Was that normal? Of course that’s not normal, you idiot. He shut his eyes, wanting to bang his head against the glass, and tried to collect himself. He had to speak again. He had to… _She_ had to go. If she didn’t soon, there would come a time when Jakob just couldn’t _stop_ himself from telling her or _showing_ her how he felt, and that… Jakob was almost sure that would _not_ go well.

“But weren’t you supposed to go into town for something today?” The words fell from his lips, and he was surprised by how nonchalant they sounded when it was taking every ounce willpower he possessed to keep his indifferent façade firmly in place.

“Town?” The sheets rustled as she tucked them in place and began smoothing out the wrinkles. “No, my Lord. Why do you ask?”

“Well—“ he paused, floundering for an answer to that question. “I thought—ah—Didn’t Cook tell you we’re running out of-of… rice?” He rolled his eyes. Right. _So_ nonchalant.

Corrin finished one sheet, and flared the other over the bed. “Um… No…? She didn’t tell me that. Really? Almost out of rice?”

Well, he could hardly back out now. “Indeed…. Yes, so would you please go to town, order some, and pay a boy to carry it back for you? And—since you’re going—you might as well spend the whole day there… if you wish…”

“Ah… certainly.” She was distracted, spreading the blankets. “That would be nice, Lord Jakob. I may see Silas for a short while… if that’s alright.”

He looked at her, her hands gently sliding across the fabric of the quilt; her hair, long and snowy white, tied back in a ponytail, only the shorter wisps framing her face; her kind, caring eyes, a soft violet that shone when she smiled. His chest tightened. 

“Of course,” he murmured quietly. He looked out the window again.

“Well then… I’ll-I’ll get right on that, Lord Jakob.” She was finished with the bed. She curtseyed to him, a slight frown of puzzlement on her lips, and slipped from the room.

The door shut, and Jakob groaned, feeling sick. His hand slid down the wall, the image of her before him, a concerned tilt to her brows, the cool touch of her palm on his skin. And now… she was leaving on _his_ orders so that she might become engaged to another man.

It hardly made any sense, even to him, and he decided then to go for a nice long ride in the country. And try to clear his head.

***

Corrin had paid the man for the rice and found a boy to meet her later and wheelbarrow the load back with her, just as Jakob had asked. 

She was totally confused by his behavior... First, there was that intense, electrified moment when their eyes met. The way he looked at her made her heart race, her breath catch… and then… silence and… and the strange request for her to come to town for _rice_! He had never bothered with such matters before. _It was like he… He wanted me out of the castle_. Corrin’s feet slowed. She stopped. She glanced up. _Could that be it?_

People rushed by, street rats chased each other and snatched apples from baskets when vendors weren’t watching, sellers shouted prices, buyers scoffed and haggled, and Corrin stood, still as an ice sculpture, her gray cloak hanging off her stiff shoulders. _He wanted me out of the castle. He wanted me gone? What did I… Did I offend him?_

Someone knocked into her shoulder, grunting, “Get off the road!” Corrin muttered apologies and continued on, re-evaluating how she had acted, what she had done… She had… had been anxious that he might be ill and checked his forehead for fever. She had frozen when she realized just how close she had gotten… She had hesitated when his red eyes danced across her face, and she had taken a moment to do the same, to trace the lines of his jaw and study the scarlet of his eyes and… _Gods_ , she shouldn’t even be having those thoughts! It had taken her _far_ too long to come to her senses, and he had _seen_ something on her face! She was _so_ beneath him, and yet she dared to care for him so deeply, so… improperly. She had given it away, and he had… had been forced to remind her of her place.

She arrived at the fountain and sunk onto the edge of it, her throat tightening. Her hands slid over her face, and she took slow, careful breaths. How many times had she reminded herself that she was a _maid_? No matter how kind Jakob was to her, he was still a _prince_. Nothing could ever be between them! She _knew_ that, so why did she _insist_ on torturing herself? _Why must I feel this way? He’s—He’s a prince! He’s arrogant and proud. He’s dismissive and impatient! He’s—He’s messy… and charming and unexpectedly sweet. He gets inside your head and captures your heart and_ refuses _to let go… And… And he’ll marry a princess… Oh, you’ll be there too, of course… polishing the floors._ She fought back a sob. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t be crying. Not in public, and certainly not over the loss of someone she’d never even had.

“There you are! I got your mes—Hey…” A gentle hand laid itself on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

Corrin rubbed at her damp eyes and forced a smile on her lips before looking up. “Hey, Silas! Yeah, I’m fine. I just—um… I got some dust in my eyes.” Her voice wasn’t as strong as it should have been, and she knew her eyes were probably doughy, but there wasn’t anything she could do.

He seated himself beside her, concerned “Are you sure?”

For half a second she thought of telling him. Confessing how terribly _in love_ she was with someone… Someone she was a fool to even _pine_ for. She considered breaking down, there, with Silas beside her, and speaking aloud what she had only whispered in her own mind.

But she couldn’t… for _so_ many reasons. She mustn’t.

So she turned her gaze elsewhere and lied. “Of course I am.”

Silas hesitated. He had known her too long to miss the tremble of her words, but he also knew when to let her be. “Alright...” He paused. “You know you can talk to me about anything, Corrin, if you need to.”

“Yes,” she answered with a slight smile. “Certainly, but there’s nothing I need to talk about, so… So how are _you_ doing?

“W-Well… uh…” He seemed suddenly nervous. “I’m glad to see you, actually... I was hoping you’d have a chance to come into town soon because there was something I wanted to tell you…”

She put aside any lingering anxious thoughts and focused on the crinkle between Silas’s brows. “Oh, yeah? What about?”

“Ah,” he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “I’m not sure how to tell you exactly…”

“Is it… good news?”

“Good news? Heh, I think so…” He studied her. “You see I… I met this girl…”

***

It was late afternoon before Jakob returned from his ride, and it had calmed him . . . not in the least. He was fighting with regret over his decision, and nothing seemed able to distract him. He could _feel_ the touch of her skin. He could _smell_ her soft aroma. She had stood _so_ near, staring right back into his eyes.

When he had returned to the fortress, he asked if she was back, but of course, she hadn’t been. Not yet. Now all he could do was stand in his rooms and stare out the windows, the only thing, it seemed, that he could ever do lately.

He sighed and his breath fogged the glass. This wouldn’t do. He could not stand there and stare at the same road, the same dark clouds, with the same dismal thoughts on his mind day in and day out. What would Xander think of him? So useless, so wasteful, doing nothing, pining after a girl who was in love with another man and watching constantly for her return. 

She could never be his, and somehow, he just had to get used that. _What would Xander do?_ Stand around staring out of windows? Or _use_ his pent up emotions? The answer was obvious. 

Jakob strode from the room, a determination in his step that hadn’t been there before. The servants bowed or curtseyed, quick to move out of his way, used to the swing of his mood when Corrin was out. He nodded to them as he passed but paid them little mind, his feet taking him the quickest route to his destination. 

When his boot touched earth, the door slamming shut behind him, his sword was already in hand, the training dummy before him half destroyed before he even realized he’d begun. 

The dampened _thwick_ and _thwack_ of metal hitting wood filled the air and deafened Jakob’s ears to the threatening growl of thunder above him. His frustration and hopelessness converted into a flurry of movement, of slashes, of swipes, of cuts, of stabs that focused all his energy and attention, thoughts of Corrin, for a brief time, swept from his mind.

Thunder shook the earth, the clouds billowing and shaking, heavy with rain, a torrent ready to fall at any moment. The storm was rolling in, fast and powerful, but Jakob didn’t care. His teeth clenched, his throat growled, and nothing mattered in the world but the swing of his sword, and the wonderful pain of exhaustion mounting in his limbs. 

Time passed. He knew not how much, but the darkness of the cloud-covered sky deepened further, his hands grew numb from the jarring pain of assault, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she _must_ have come back by now, she must be up there, somewhere, possibly at a window, looking down at him this very moment…

But his eyes remained fixated on the lifeless form before him, his feet continued to dance below him, and nothing would stop him. Nothing, that is, but the elements.

The sky, unable to hold its load a moment longer, finally opened. Waves fell down around him just as he let out one final cry and swung his sword one final time. The blade tore clean through the weakened post and dummy, shearing them in half. They collapsed to the ground at Jakob’s feet, and he stood over them, breathless, his arms shaking from effort. Looking up into the downpour, he fought to fill his lungs of air and ignore the sting in his muscles. 

He heaved a breath, let the sword drop from his hand, and strode back inside.

“Milord!” Felicia squeaked, surprised at his sudden entrance. “You’re soaked!”

“Thank you, Felicia, for that astute observation.” He replied dryly, his temper in no mood for senselessness. 

She shook her head, “Sorry! Shall I prepare a hot bath?”

Jakob waved his hand. “Don’t bother. I shall change and dry off. I would like supper in my room tonight please.”

“Of course, Milord,” she dipped and turned to go.

“Oh, Felicia—Ah—Would you please send Corrin with my supper.”

She tipped her head apologetically. “Um, I’m afraid Corrin has yet to return, Milord…” Lightening flickered through the windows, thunder cracked, and Felicia flinched, her eyes wide with fear. 

“She’s not returned?” Jakob demanded, not expecting such an answer after hours of training. “You mean she’s out in this!” Panic seized him, his exhausted body suddenly on high alert.

“I—I don’t know….” Felicia muttered. “Probably she—she found shelter somewhere… Or stayed in town!”

“But you don’t know that! She could be out there!” Felicia winced at his ferocity, but Jakob didn’t have time for gentle words. As often as Nohrian storms arose, Jakob could tell this was of a different sort—this was one to be reckoned with, and Corrin—if she got lost or hurt out there because of _him_ —because _he_ had asked her to go to town—he would never forgive himself. 

He turned and swept through the doors again and out into the rain. He paused barely a second before turning and running through the deluge, his booted feet slapping against the already muddying road. _Corrin… Corrin… Please_ , he thought. _You have to be safe._

His legs screamed with fatigue, worn from a long day of riding, of pacing, of training, but he didn’t spare them a thought. Lightening streaked blindingly around him, thunder exploded deafeningly, rain descended in sheets, and none of it gave him a moment’s pause. The dirt under his feet turned slick. Once, it gave way beneath him, and he crashed to the ground, to the mud, hands and knees and elbows. 

In a breath, he was up again, eyes wide, searching, heart pounding, desperate. It was dark. Too dark in the twilight, too dark in the storm, the clouds roiling above. His eyes scanned, searched, but he was terrified he’d miss her. Still, he kept on. It was the only thing he could do, the only option he had. If he made it to town he would find Silas and demand her whereabouts, and he would run this road again if he had to.

Fortunately, he didn’t. Almost halfway there, he finally saw something. The wheelbarrow. It was the wheelbarrow, covered with a dark gray cloak, and stuck, lodged in a ditch turned sloppy with rainwater. Jakob came to it, searching for any sign of Corrin. The cloak—he touched it. It was hers. He was sure of it. She was trying to protect the rice from the downpour, but where was _she_? He spun in a circle, looking for any hint, and clue. “Corrin?” He called, his word nearly drowned by the rush of sound. “Corrin!” He yelled again, stepping a few paces the way he had come. “ _Corrin!_ ”

“-Kob?” He gasped, turned. He had heard something. He knew he had. Again, he screamed her name, and again, he caught something, a slight sound on the wind, and he sought it. It came from off the road. He ran to the side, looking down over the gully at the trees. Where was she? It took only a second to spot her, an ashen face, turned up with disbelief, with hope. His heart leapt.

“Corrin!” He cried, carelessly skidding down the ditch. His fine clothes were covered in yet more mud, but he honestly didn’t care. He just had to get to her. He reached bottom and turned and started running.

“Jakob!” She stumbled towards him, and they met in a crash, in an embrace, desperate with fear as much as relief. Jakob held her tight against him, eyes shut, body trembling. He could not let go. He could _not_ , Silas be dashed! All that mattered was that she was _safe_ , she was _here_ , he had _found_ her. He stroked her hair, her frighteningly cold face buried in the crook of his neck. “Are you alright?” He pulled back just an inch, just enough to slide his hands down her arms, to hold her face in his palms and look into her eyes.

Rather than answering his question, she stared at him with disbelief. “What are you _doing_ out here? You shouldn’t have come! Gunter will be horrified when he finds out.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care! I don’t care about him. Are you _alright_ , Corrin? You’re so cold!” He pulled her into his arms again, trying to spread his warmth to her. 

“J-Jakob…” she stuttered softly, her teeth chattering. 

“I was so worried when I realized you were out in this,” he whispered, his breath warm on her ear. 

“I—I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I twisted my ankle.” Jakob suddenly realized she was leaning on him, clutching weakly at his shoulders, and he shifted his grip to support her better. “I sent the boy home when I realized this storm was coming. I—I foolishly tried to make it back through it, but the cart—It got stuck in the ditch, and when I decided to leave it, I slipped! I tumbled down here. I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t think I could make it back with my ankle. I thought I would have to wait out the storm, wait for someone to realize I hadn’t come home yet.” She looked at him, laid her head on his shoulder, and entwined her arms around his chest. “I never thought you would come out in this storm to find me.”

“Oh, Corrin,” Jakob laid his head on top of hers. “I will always find you.” He spoke so quietly the words were probably lost in the storm, but he held her close, slid his hands up and down her back, and his reassurance spread to her in one way or another. “Come,” he said. “We must get you back. Get you out of this mess, someplace warm.” 

“But my ank—“ Thunder boomed, and Corrin started, clutching onto Jakob and burying her face in his shoulder.

“Don’t worry.” He held her just a moment, calming her nerves. “You’re safe now. I’ll get you back.” He bent and scooped her into his arms. She yelped with surprise but didn’t even protest like he expected she would. Rather, she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. Jakob clutched her to him, taking just a second to steady his pounding heart before starting forward, nothing on his mind but getting the shivering bundle in his arms back home again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Any comments are extremely appreciated! Let me know what you think or how I can improve <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry I've been kind of out of the loop lately. 
> 
> But thank you so much for your comments <3 They make my day every single time.

Jakob woke to sunlight flickering on his eyelids.

He was cold, cramped, and damp, and memories of the night before rushed into his mind.

Corrin, alone, afraid. Thunder, lightning, wind, and rain. Carrying her, hot and cold, in his arms, trembling more and more, unconscious by the time the fortress was in sight. Gunter, angrily setting out in search of the prince just as he himself stumbled through the doors.

The Old Man tried to take Corrin from his arms, but he wouldn’t let him. He clutched her tighter and carried her, dripping, upstairs to his room, laying her gently in his bed while barking orders to those around him. He called for Felicia, for Flora and her healing staff, for a hot bath to be prepared, a fire, a nightgown, while his eyes never left Corrin’s flushed face, his arms reluctantly letting her go, but not leaving her side.

He stroked her hot, feverish face, murmuring soft words of care, of reassurance, hoping some of it got through to her. He tucked the blankets around her while everyone else shouted and bustled to follow his instructions.

He had to leave, of course, when they bathed and changed her, but he paced outside the doors, waving off Gunter’s pleas for rest, for his own bath and change of clothes. “It won’t help her if you both get sick,” he said, but Jakob wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ think of himself. Not when she was ill and hurt and needed him.

While he waited, old memories came to mind. Memories of when they were both little, and Corrin, left on the steps of the Krakenburgh Castle, was brought to the fortress, untrained, to be his new maid. She was frightened and shy, hiding behind her white bangs as she was introduced to her new master. And in that moment, the very first moment Jakob met her, there was nothing he wanted more than to hug her and tell her everything would be alright, that they would be friends, and she would find a new home there… with him…

He felt like that again. Like he was that boy of twelve, and she, the frightened orphaned girl of eight, and there was nothing he wanted to do more than hold her and tell her everything would be ok. 

When they were kids, he had helped her, encouraged her, refused to let them throw her out when she struggled with her work. Yes, he did this because she needed him, needed someone kind, someone who would be her family, but secretly, he did it because _he_ needed _her_. He had never realized how much until she came into his life and brought joy with her…

When they were finished and Corrin was again tucked into bed with her wet hair flared around her like a white aura, her face a contrast of feverish red, Flora told him she was bad off. She shook her head at Jakob, unable to answer his questions positively. She explained the ankle had been healed with staves, but the fever would have to take its own course. That the night was important. If Corrin made it through the night, she would probably be well again in a week or two. 

Jakob grabbed her, shook her, _if she made it through the night?_ But Flora, grim-faced, could promise no more, so Jakob sent her away with a wave of his hand and returned to Corrin. He sat beside her, held her hand in both of his, searching her face, watching her toss and twist and shiver and mutter in her sleep, his heart breaking with every whimper of pain or distress. He wiped her brow with cold, damp rag, and held her hand, and kissed her forehead, whispering soft pleas or gentle commands.

At some point, they offered him food. He had hardly eaten all day after all, but he wasn’t hungry. He couldn’t think of eating. He turned them away as he brought the back of Corrin’s hand to his cheek and closed his eyes and relished in the feeling. _Please, please, Corrin... Come back to me. I need you._

In some part of his mind, he knew he should send for Silas. The man Corrin loved should sit by her side and comfort her, but Jakob couldn’t do it. He used the excuse of the storm, and told himself he would send for Silas in the morning. But just then, he couldn’t tear himself away and let another take his place.

It was the deep black of night, thunder grumbling in the distance, after hours of anxious vigil, that Corrin finally calmed and lay still in sleep. Flora came again (ruffled, still dressed, apparently as unable to sleep as Jakob). She checked Corrin, touched her brow and smoothed her hair from her face. She listened to her chest, and finally straightened. This was a good sign, she explained. Most likely Corrin would recover, but after such a bad fever it may still be some days before they could hope to see her waken.

Jakob sighed deeply, worried still, of course, but relieved that the worst was probably past. He thanked the gods as all the tension eased from his tensed muscles.

With this positive news, Gunter begged Jakob to leave, to wash the mud off and get some rest, but Jakob wouldn’t. He wanted to stay up and watch her all night, be sure she was alright. But… apparently, the dreadful exhaustion caught up with him…

He fell asleep with his head on the bed, Corrin’s hand clutched to his heart.

When the light flickered on his eyelids, Jakob stirred for the first time since he fell unconscious. When he remembered where he was, what had happened, he sat up anxiously, biting back a groan of discomfort as his sore, cramped muscles unwound again.

Corrin lay still and ashen white. “Corrin?” Jakob forgot, for a moment, how to breathe. He moved closer, chills crawling up his arms. He touched his hand to her cheek and traced along her jaw. “Corrin, can you hear me?” She was warm, but not hot. The pads of his fingers found the vein in her neck, searching for a pulse. For a second, there was nothing.

Then, _thump-thump_. Her heartbeat, slow, steady, and he let out a breath. He sat again, brought her knuckles to his lips, and kissed them one by one. “I don’t know what I would do without you,” he whispered.

A gentle tap sounded at the door, and he looked up, laying Corrin’s hand beside her again. “Come in,” he answered quietly, and Flora entered.

“Milord—“ she started.

“Flora, I’m glad you came. Please do check on Corrin right away.”

“Milord—“

“Also, open a window to let some air in, please. It’s too warm in here. And…” he hesitated, frowning.

“Milord—“

He sighed, “Send someone for the priest, Silas.” As much as he wanted to care for Corrin on his own, the man deserved to know she was ill.

“Milord!”

“Shh! Flora!” He hissed. She let out a frustrated breath and stepped towards him.

“I apologize, Milord, but I’ve been trying to tell you—Your family is here! They just arrived a few minutes ago.”

“What? My fam—They’re _all_ here? Whatever for?” Usually he was thrilled when his brothers and sisters came to see him at the fortress. It was an opportunity to train with Xander, study with Leo, and hear all the latest news from his sisters, but now… With Corrin ill, all he wanted to do was care for her. “Why have they come? Why _now_ , of all times?”

“Milord…” Flora faltered. “It’s your birthday tomorrow.”

***

Jakob had quickly scrubbed the mud from his arms and face with the basin of water Flora had brought to him in the guest room nearest his own. She brushed his hair, still damp from the braid he had worn, and quickly did it up again before leaving him alone to change.

He scowled as he tossed his shirt to the ground and pulled on a fresh one, grunting from the spasm of pain in his sore muscles. He didn’t know how he was going to do this… Appear calm and happy even, as Corrin lay unconscious a floor away.

Flora would examine her, Silas would be sent for, and Jakob would be downstairs eating breakfast, chatting, sparring with his brother, and preparing to celebrate a day he would rather spend with Corrin’s hand tucked in his.

He took a breath as he exited the room and hesitated, glancing down the hallway at the closed door to his room. But he had already kept them waiting long enough. So he turned and marched down the steps, forcing a natural expression onto his face.

“Big brother!” Elise shouted with glee. She ran to him, her blond pigtails bouncing behind her, and threw her arms around his waist.

“Elise,” Jakob smiled. 

“I’ve missed you!”

“Jakob, darling, it’s so good to see you,” Camilla smiled lazily, sauntering towards him. 

“Brother,” Xander clapped his hand onto Jakob’s shoulder.

“I trust you are well,” Leo closed the book he had been reading, nodding in Jakob’s direction.

“Mm, it’s good to see you all,” Jakob answered smoothly. “But am I not getting too old for these birthday celebrations?”

“Nonsense.” Camilla draped her arms over Jakob’s shoulders from behind. “You’re never too old for a _party_.”

“Yeah!” Elise scowled. “Don’t even think about backing out of this like Xander tries too. He’s a big party-pooper.”

Xander chuckled, “There comes a time in a man’s life when streamers, cake, and presents, become a bit too much. I don’t believe, however, that that time has yet come for you, Jakob.” Jakob smiled half-heartedly and didn’t reply.

“Come!” Xander continued, “I’m famished.”

The others chorused their agreement, and Jakob could only exhale and follow in their wake, taking a seat by Camilla as Felicia served them all one by one (shockingly making it back to the kitchen without tripping once). He eyed the hearty breakfast, silently apologizing to Cook for his family dropping in unannounced. They liked to do that, and Cook hated it. 

“So how are you, dear brother?” Camilla purred. “It’s been some time since we last came for a visit.” She pouted. “I don’t get to see this particular little brother often enough.”

How was he, truly? _Tired, drained, desperately anxious._ “Fine, Camilla. I’m fine. Yesterday was… long. I’m a little exhausted, but I’m ok.” He attempted a smile, aware that it fell short. 

Camilla tilted her head curiously. “It was long? How so?”

“We must spar after breakfast,” Xander interjected before Jakob tried to think of how to answer that. “I trust you’ve been keeping up with your training?”

If only he knew. “I have, brother. In fact, I was out there for some time just yesterday.” He glanced at Camilla. “Part of why yesterday was long.”

“Excellent!” Xander replied. “I look forward to seeing how you’ve improved.”

“What Jakob _really_ needs to learn,” Leo contradicted, “is how to defend himself when a flame or lightning bolt is streaking towards him. Magic is a deadly force not to be taken lightly.”

“Oh! _Please_ ,” Elise begged. “Let’s not talk about boring stuff. I want to tell brother about all the latest court gossip!”

Jakob’s smile was almost real when his eyes returned to his little sister. He pushed his plate of food aside, not hungry, and placed his elbows on the table, his chin in hand, and responded, “Do tell, Elise.”

That’s all the encouragement she needed. Within seconds, she had launched into a tale of all the mad scandal, the depraved stories, and the unbelievably juicy chunks of gossip she had collected since the last time she visited.

Jakob tried to listen. He nodded when the time was right, or grunted if more encouragement was needed. He even gasped with surprise once or twice for his sister’s sake, but his mind kept drifting elsewhere. His heart seemed to beat, and his breath to whisper only one name. 

_Corrin. Corrin. Corrin._

More than anything he wanted a reprieve, an escape somewhere, somehow, from all of his siblings. As much as he loved them—And he really _did_ love them—something else was monopolizing his thoughts. Rather, _someone_ else. He wanted to see her. He _needed_ to see her. He couldn’t shake from his mind the image of her twisting, feverish form, and he had to know she was still alright still and hadn’t succumbed to fever again. So when Flora entered the room, her eyes seeking Jakob’s, he straightened, alert, hands fisting in his lap. She came to him and whispered in his ear. _Corrin is doing well. The sleep is definitely helping her. And I received a reply from Silas. He’s on his way._

As much as the first part of her message filled him with relief, the second filled him with dread, and, yes, also with jealousy. Silas would get to stay with her and hold her as Jakob had done while the prince remained with his siblings and wore that mask of indifference.

Jakob thanked Flora. She curtseyed to the assembled royalty and exited the chamber.

“—So then _I_ told _her_ that if she heard it from Royce, than it _must_ be true—“

“What was that about?” Camilla interrupted, gesturing lightly in the direction Flora had departed.

“What? Oh…” Jakob suddenly realized four pairs of eyes were on him. “Ah…” What could he say? He loosened his collar and explained. “Corrin… was trapped in a storm last night. She caught fever and is still recovering. Flora was just letting me know the latest.”

“Aw,” Camilla crooned. “I do hope the poor dear will be alright.”

“Corrin?” Xander asked, his brow raised questioningly. “She’s that little white-haired girl, isn’t she? I’m sorry to hear she’s unwell.”

“Mm… So was I.” Jakob’s smile was somewhat strained.

Leo looked at him quizzically. “How did she get caught in it in the first place? Surely she knows how suddenly a storm can creep up here. Did she not see the warning signs and take shelter?”

Jakob’s hands twisted in the cloth napkin in his lap. “She twisted her ankle.”

“I see,” Leo answered slowly, obviously still considering the conundrum.

Camilla was watching Jakob. She patted his hand. “Well, I certainly hope the dear child feels more like herself soon.”

“Indeed,” Leo muttered. “But why was she _out_ in the first pl—“

“Didn’t you say you wanted to spar?” Jakob rose abruptly to his feet, looking at Xander. “We’re all done with breakfast, aren’t we? Why don’t we all go up?”

***

“Ah,” Jakob grunted with pain. “Elise, I thought you were meant to be a healer!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She puffed out her cheeks in concentration, staff in hand. It took some minutes, but the slash on his arm eventually knitted itself back together and sealed shut. Elise let out a wearied breath and collapsed in a nearby chair.

“I still don’t understand what was wrong with you today, Jakob,” Xander commented. “Your head was not in the match, and that could mean death on a real battlefield! You must concentrate, you must be _present_ at all times. Your sword was low, your stance was off, your reflexes were lacking—What was going on?”

“I told you,” Jakob sighed. “I had an exhausting day yesterday… A long ride, a long training session… among other things. I didn’t sleep well. You just—You caught me on an off day.”

Leo glanced up from his book, a concerned tilt to his brow. “You can’t burn yourself out, Jakob… Putting so much into one day may exhaust you to the point that you require _weeks_ to recover, which defeats the whole purpose of the extra training. You have to build your stamina gradually…”

“Leo is right,” Xander nodded. “Such ’off days’ could get you killed.”

“I know, I know. I just—“ He didn’t have an excuse to give, at least not one he was willing to explain. The truth of it was had gotten very little sleep the night before, and he was exhausted. And, even during the match, he couldn’t seem to completely shake off the image of her pale face from his mind. The fact that Silas was probably with her—or soon to be—didn’t help matters either. His sore muscles were strengthened by his frustration, but still, he was too distracted to be a serious opponent.

“Alright, that’s enough criticism for one day, boys,” Camilla hummed, giving them each a bit of a look.

A brief moment of uncomfortable silence fell around them as Jakob stared at the floor, lost in thought.

“I’m hungry,” Elise muttered.

“Indeed, watching that fight gave me an appetite,” Camilla agreed. “Let’s ring for lunch, shall we?”

“Actually, I’m not very hungry,” Jakob said. Sitting around play-eating while trying to have normal conversation was more than he could handle. “You all go. I’m going to take a walk.”

“Oh… well I’ll join you then,” Camilla offered.

“No, no, I’m sure you’re hungry, sister. Don’t let me keep you from your lunch.” They’d only been there a few hours, and already, he longed for a moment of silence.

“Nonsense. I’d rather spend time with my adorable Jakob.” Apparently, it would not be granted him. 

He sighed. “Very well. The garden then?”

“Yes. We can walk through the garden to the stables. Marzia had missed you almost as much as I have.”

Jakob nodded, and the party separated then, Elise and Leo heading towards lunch, Xander squeezing Jakob’s shoulder in silent apology before following them, and Camilla leaving another way with Jakob just behind her.

The sky, for once, was mostly clear with only a few patches of white clouds strewn across it. A cool breeze blew through the trees, and Jakob exhaled, only then realizing how much he needed some fresh air to clear his head.

The garden was fairly sparse. There were trees and bushes, but not much in the way of bright colors. The pair walked through it in silence, Camilla trailing her fingers over the few tough blooms that could be cultivated in the harsh Nohrian climate. 

“So,” she began. “Is there anything you’d like to confide in your big sister?”

“What do you mean?” 

Camilla gave him a sideways smile. “You’ve never been able to keep anything secret from me for very long you know, Jakob. As soon as we got here, I could tell something was wrong… You’re usually happy to see us, but now…” Her voice turned somber. “You can’t wait for us to get away, can you?”

He winced. “It’s not that, Camilla. I-I _am_ happy to see you all. I’m sorry… that I’ve been acting like I wasn’t. It’s just,” shaking his head, “bad timing.”

Sighing, Camilla leaned back against a tree. “I’ve suspected for a long time, dear brother. Today only confirmed it.” Jakob glanced at her under his white locks. He had thought she might have already guessed his feelings, but he was never sure. He plucked a leaf from a tree and shredded it at every vein before letting the pieces drift in the wind. The silence remained, and when it was clear Jakob wouldn’t be the one to break it, Camilla said it for him. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you.”

He turned away and took a seat on a stone bench nearby, his elbows on his knees. He didn’t know what he should say. Tell her? She watched him expectantly. Would she be angry with him? Call him a fool for falling in love with a ‘lowly maid’? But Jakob couldn’t help himself. Corrin was… She was so much more than that. 

“… I am,” he answered.

“Sweet Jakob,” Camilla cooed. “I’m so happy for you.”

“You are?” He glanced at her with surprise. “I rather thought you would… would tell me ‘this cannot be. That I am a prince, and she a maid’ and… so on.”

“No, my dear. Others… may not agree with me, but all _I_ care about is your happiness.” She sat beside him and drew him to her bosom in a great hug before he could stop her. “But the question is, does this Corrin know just how lucky she is?”

“She—N-No, it’s not like that.” His face warming, he pushed away from her, running his fingers through his hair in some attempt to regain his dignity.

“What do mean?” Her eyes flashed. “Are you saying the fool girl doesn’t return your feelings?”

“Camilla! No, you don’t understand.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t know how I feel. She’s…” He stared at the ground beneath his feet. “She’s already in love with somebody else.” Saying it out loud… As many times as he’d told himself, actually saying it to someone really drove the dagger home.

“Oh, sweetie…”

Somehow, the sympathy made it so much worse. Jakob stood before she could coddle him. He faced away, silent, taking a moment to compose himself.

“Jakob, dearest,” she began. “I know… I know you don’t want my advice right now, but I’m going to give it to you regardless… I think you should tell her.”

“What?” He choked. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t possibly! I told you she loves someone else. She would reject me, Camilla! I-I couldn’t take that…”

“Brother,” she had stood and now placed her palm on his cheek. “You don’t know that. If she’s not married, then… you still have a chance… _Speak_ to her, _fight_ for her, give her a choice, and any girl in her right mind would choose _you_.”

“I… I don’t know, Camilla… I just want her to be happy.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Promise me you’ll think about it, dearest.”

He swallowed. Tell Corrin? The thought terrified him. If she left, packed her bags, and walked away, he… He honestly didn’t know what he would do. But if… If perhaps she could someday come to return his feelings… Was that possible reward worth all the risk? “I’ll think about it,” he answered.

Her smile widened. She tapped his arm gently, and said, “Come. There is a certain wyvern who needs our attention.”

***

When night finally fell, and he and his siblings parted to their separate rooms, Jakob sat on the bed in the guest room he was using, tense as a taut bowstring. Camilla’s words echoed in his mind. Ever since their conversation he had been considering it, weighing the odds back and forth.

Could he do it? Tell her… everything, all the feelings he had harbored for years? Give her a choice… Would she— _Could_ she—choose him?

His heart thumped at the thought. He pictured himself looking her in the eyes and saying… _I love you_. The fear of losing her forever was almost overwhelming… But, on the other hand, if she could, perhaps, somehow… come to love him back…

“Milord.”

Jakob twitched. Flora stood just inside the doorway. He hadn’t even heard her knock.

She curtseyed, “My apologies for not coming sooner. I’m just so used to Corrin—“ She stopped herself, her mouth thinning in a line of worry. “Is there… anything I can do for you?”

“Ah… No, Flora, I can manage, thank you.”

She curtseyed. “Alright. I’ll bid you goodnight then.”

“Oh, Flora? Is Silas… still with her?”

“Oh, no, Milord. He had to leave hours ago. He said he would be back tomorrow.”

“I… see. Thank you, Flora. Goodnight.” The information gave him conflicting emotions. Anger that Silas had found something more important than Corrin. Relief that he himself might go to her without having to endure the priest’s presence. 

He chose to focus on the latter. He stole into the dark hallway and slipped into Corrin’s room unnoticed. All day he had been wanting to see her. All day something was missing without her, a piece of his soul broken and stored with her for safekeeping. Only when his eyes landed on her, only when his hand warmed hers and his lips touched softly on her cheek… Only then, did he feel whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaay, we get to see the sibs! I don't know--Camilla is just the easiest for me, bu I did my best with the others.
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading! Any comments are extremely appreciated c: Let me know what you think or how I can improve <3


	4. Chapter 4

“Jakob.” He awoke to a voice whispering his name, a hand squeezing his shoulder.

He rose from unconsciousness slowly, dragged from nightmares of storms and dreams of Corrin finally awakening only to beg for Silas. With a final murmur he came to, his eyes opening blearily. At first, he only saw Corrin, still asleep. Peaceful. And some despairing part of him eased.

Second, he noticed Camilla standing over him with a slight smile on her face. “Jakob,” she whispered. “Happy birthday, dear.”

He blinked. “Oh… Thank you, Sister.”

She nodded. “You better get dressed. They’re all waiting for you.”

“How did you know I would be here?”

Laughing lightly, she explained, “I was more surprised to see _her_ sleeping in your bed than _you_ sleeping in your own room.

“Oh… Right.” Half-asleep still, he glanced back at Corrin and brought a strand of her snow white hair to his lips before making himself stand. He took a couple of steps, then noticed Camilla wasn’t following and looked over at her. “Are you coming?”

“I’m right behind you,” she answered. “You go get changed, and I’ll be downstairs waiting.”

Jakob wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to leave unconscious Corrin alone with his sister, but he had no argument to give… And it wasn’t as if Camilla would hurt her… So he left them, and while he stumbled to his guest room and started changing, Camilla sat beside Corrin and watched her silently for a moment. 

“You, dear child,” she said, “must be blessed by the gods…” She sat in the chair Jakob had just vacated and spread her hand on Corrin’s hair and smoothed it out over the pillow. “Jakob is… special. I hope you know that, Corrin, because you’ve stolen his heart from his chest like a thief steals a jewel.

“I can see how much he loves you… The way he moves, speaks, the way he gazes at nothing and thinks of you.” Camilla looked to one side. “I have to admit I’m rather jealous. His love is real. It’s true. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks as you…

“I don’t know if you deserve him. I-I don’t know if _anyone_ does, really… But if he loves you the way I think he does, then… Then you must be special too in your own way… and…”

She paused, contemplatively, then went on. She leaned forward and whispered to her as if she were telling a secret no one else could hear. “I want you to know something... I’m not blood-related to Jakob. But that has never mattered to me. Ever since he came into my life, I’ve loved him as hard and as deeply as I love all of my siblings. Maybe… even harder… Therefore, with such a bond, I _am_ his sister. He _is_ my brother, and with that title, I want you to know that you have my blessing. Xander, Father—I’m not sure they would see it the way I do, but all I want for Jakob is his happiness.

“That’s why…” Camilla stood and tucked the blanket around Corrin a little tighter. She patted her head in a motherly sort of way, and added, “I also want you to know that if you break his heart, I _will_ kill you.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t exactly a pleasant one. “But I’m sure it won’t come to that, will it?” She tilted her head to one side. “I’m so glad we had this little talk. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have someone’s birthday to celebrate.”

***

The second day of his family’s visit passed just as slowly as the first. As much as Jakob tried to enjoy himself and show the appropriate appreciation for the decorations and menu and little games of celebration for his birthday his siblings put together and participated in, none of it was the same without Corrin nearby, smiling, silently watching him and giving him birthday wishes in the small moments between.

He tried to focus on his brothers and sisters, to delve into each phase whole-heartedly, to forget about Corrin for a few hours… But that, it soon became apparent, was impossible. She had always been constant in his thoughts, and now with everything that had happened, with the promise he had made to his sister, with Corrin absent on a day she was always there, completely putting her from his mind was beyond his skill. 

When they served his favorite food, he looked up, expecting to see her—a tinge of red in her cheeks, a warm glow to her eyes—only to see Felicia and remember why she was serving his breakfast instead. His appetite suddenly gone, he tried to eat and to keep from fidgeting in his seat, and laugh with everyone else when Xander reminisced on some of Jakob’s previous birthdays. He only hoped it passed as genuine.

When they opened presents, he automatically sought out Corrin’s eyes, usually alight with more excitement than his own, until he remembered she wasn’t there, and tried not to look too crestfallen.

When Elise forced them to hold a mini-ball in the largest room the Fortress had, Jakob longed to take Corrin’s hand, to sweep her onto the marble floor, and spin her across the room like the princess she was…

It certainly didn’t help matters when half-way through lunch, Flora had informed him that Silas had arrived. The urge to go up and stay by Corrin and silently put forth his claim was almost unbearable. He found his body twitching to move, his eyes glazing over as he thought of what he might say to him. 

_“I was surprised to find out just how early you left yesterday. But I suppose you had something more_ important _to watch over than the woman you love.”_ He pictured himself snarling, sarcastic, as condescending as a prince was supposed to be. As condescending as Jakob _was_ to everyone he didn’t care about.

“—Kob. Jakob? Jakob!” The shout snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Leo staring at him inquisitively. “Is everything alright?” he asked. “You’ve been acting… strangely… all day.”

“Yes.” He shook his head. “Quite. I… apologize. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I believe it’s just catching up with me.”

“Right… Are you sure?” He seemed doubtful. “A moment ago you seemed almost… angry.”

 _Angry_ was one word for it, but really, what he felt went far beyond into realms Jakob couldn’t even identify. 

“I’m certain, Leo. I’m sorry to worry you… Now where were we?”

“Ah,” Camilla broke in. “I think we were just about to call for the cake, weren’t we?”

“Oh yes!” Elise grinned. “Cake!”

Jakob let out a breath, sending a mental _thank you_ Camilla’s way. 

Within moments, the cake came. It was sliced, and Jakob tried even harder to keep his thoughts from drifting. 

“This is actually quite good,” Leo murmured. 

“Indeed.” Camilla glanced at the large cake. “I’m sorry we won’t be able to stay and help you work through that.” 

Earlier on, Camilla had devised some kind of story. She learned some news and mixed it with some false information, and explained to her siblings that they needed to return to Castle Krakenburg the very next day. Of course, everyone was dismayed. Everyone, that is, but Jakob. Honestly, he didn’t know how to thank Camilla. He was guilty that he was, in effect, throwing his family out when they could have stayed a few days longer, but… In the future he would welcome them genuinely and make up for this time… But just then, he needed to focus on the one he loved.

“Maybe,” Jakob smiled. “Next time you all come, I’ll ask Cook to make another one.”

***

That night, after hugging his brothers and sisters and thanking them for a wonderful birthday, he could only wait minutes before listening at his door to be sure all was silent. He stood for a full sixty soundless seconds before slipping from his room and easing into Corrin’s. After shutting the door, he looked up, nearly taking a step forward before he saw a silhouette in the chair beside Corrin. He froze, panic seizing him for the worst half-second of his life before he recognized Silas, and his fear melted into irritation instead.

His back pressed against the door, his teeth barred in an animalistic snarl. He cursed himself, realizing he had not waited for Flora’s information before coming in here. A mistake made in his impatience. _Now_ what should he do?

Leave, as silently as he had entered? But no, no, almost as soon as the thought entered his mind, he knew he would not leave. He had at least as much right to be there as Silas. Even if Jakob hadn’t been in love with Corrin, he was her family. He had made that clear since day one, but If, somehow, even that were discarded, then he was also the prince she served, and that gave him every right to check in on her if he so wished.

Besides, there had been something he wanted to say to the Priest all day.

Squaring his shoulders, he moved forward again. “I’m surprised to see you here so late after you left as early as you did yesterday.” His voice was low, but the implication in the words was clear.

Silas twitched at the sounds of his voice, looking up with surprise, his eyes glowing in the dimness of the room.

Jakob moved to the other side of the bed, the other side of Corrin, standing over her and fighting against the urge to slap Silas’s hand away from hers.

“Lord Jakob…” The priest murmured in greeting. There was… There was an edge to the two words, a hint of malice, a sprinkle of distaste. Jakob arched a brow. _Oh dear. I seem to have offended him somehow. How terribly unfortunate._ He clasped his hands behind his back, studying Silas by the light of the fireplace and soft moonlight from the windows. He and Silas had never really got along well anyway, but Jakob hadn’t even seen him for years.

“No, please, don’t stand,” Jakob said, sarcasm dripping from every word. Silas only grunted in response, a reply which Jakob more or less expected.

“I stayed as long as I could yesterday.” He explained. “But I had left the temple in such a hurry, I hadn’t the chance to tell anyone where I was going or when I was coming back. I didn’t want anyone thinking the worst. I would have liked to be here… with her… But I was _needed_ elsewhere…” He paused before meaningfully adding, “And I knew _Corrin_ would understand.”

Jakob scoffed. If his and Silas’s situations had been reversed, he would never have left her side no matter the consequences. Silas’s excuses were not adequate. “I see,” Jakob sneered. “You had more important things to attend to.”

“Oh, by the way,” Silas countered, ignoring Jakob’s remark. “I couldn’t help but overhear some of the festivities you and your _family_ were having downstairs. I suppose you were having too much fun to tear yourself away until now—when all is finally quiet?”

Before Silas’s sentence had ended, a growl was emanating from Jakob’s throat. The idiot didn’t understand anything. “I would have been here—” His hand swiped through the air, and his words were a bit louder than he had intended. Glancing at Corrin, he forced his voice lower. “I would have been here the entire time, but I couldn’t, not with… with—“

“Ah, that’s _right_ ,” Silas retorted. “It wouldn’t have been viewed well if a prince was seen to care so deeply for a _servant_ , would it? You _couldn’t_ be seen with the likes of Corrin.”

“That’s not—That’s not—“ Jakob shook his head like he had been slapped, trying to get a grip on this. Fury roiled in his body. Never in his life had anyone spoken so harshly, so daringly, so disrespectfully to him. Nor had anyone spoken so honestly either, and the truth mixed in with Silas’s words infuriated Jakob more than anything else. “How _dare_ you!” He finally said, the exclamation definitely above a whisper.

“Well it’s true, isn’t it?” At some point Silas had risen to his feet and was likewise standing over Corrin’s form, his hands making angry gestures in the air. “She’s not _good enough_ for one of your rank. She has no titles, no money, no family connections, no hope of rising up in the world! What use have you of her but as a servant?”

“That’s not true!” Jakob roared, his blood boiling hotter with every word exchanged. “She _is_ good enough! She’s—She’s more than good enough! She’s sweeter and gentler and braver and _nobler_ than I will ever be! If I were king of Nohr _and_ Hoshido combined, I _stil_ l would not deserve her!” His hand slashed the air, his teeth gleaming white and his eyes glowing red in the darkness of the room. He breathed deeply, only realizing what he’d said after the words had left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to make his feelings for Corrin so obvious, but now that it was done, he realized, he was _glad_ Silas knew, and he stood, staring him down across the bed as if they were generals fighting over a piece of land. _I dare you to dispute my claim,_ Jakob thought. _I_ dare _you._

But Silas didn’t. He shut his mouth, his expression stormy, but he said not a word. His eyes didn’t leave Jakob’s, and it was only the sound of shifting sheets and the slightest of murmurs that broke the electrified stare on both sides. 

And suddenly, the two men were kneeling on the mattress on either side of Corrin, each with one of her hands in theirs, watching her with bated breath. She shifted, turned slightly, her brows lowered in some sign of discomfort. 

“Cor—“ Jakob started, just as Silas whispered her name. He would have scowled, but he didn’t have the concentration with Corrin showing signs of life after lying still for so long. She murmured something, and Silas repeated her name, adding, “Can you hear me?”

Her icy blue eyes fluttered, and Jakob had to release her hand regretfully as she shifted onto her side, facing Silas. Settling again, she relaxed against her pillow. For a tense moment, Jakob thought that was it. That was all she could do yet, and she was asleep again.

But just before settling completely, she murmured something. A word. A name. _His_ name! “Jakob….” She sighed. It escaped her lips as a breath, but it filled the prince with overwhelming elation, and inexplicable triumph. His face broke into a disbelieving smile. How was it possible? The first word she spoke was _his_ name? Near enough to brush her hair from her forehead, he gazed at her.

But Silas was staring with a conflicted look, his eyes flickering across her face. And the sigh that he expelled distracted Jakob from his floating thoughts. He looked back at Silas, wondering what he would think—the woman he loved whispering another man’s name…

Silas merely raised Corrin’s hand and lightly touched his lips to it. Jakob watched, the corner of his mouth turning down, but then the Priest stood, letting Corrin go and glancing at the prince. He paused for a moment, ran his fingers through his hair, and then spoke in little more than a whisper. “I think I’m going to go… She’s getting better. I’m happy to see it…” He looked away, appearing lost in some kind of reverie. “But since the worst is obviously behind her,” he continued. “I won’t be coming back tomorrow. If she… If she asks…” He shook his head. “No… She wouldn’t, though. Nevermind. Just tell her I visited… when she wakes… if you don’t mind...”

Confused by Silas’s calmness, by his mild manner, and the fact that—that he was _leaving,_ all Jakob could do was stutter, “Of—Of course…”

Silas nodded. He turned as if to go but stopped. He looked at the prince again. “Ah, forgive me… Lord Jakob… for what I said earlier... I understand now that I was mistaken.” Jakob realized his mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it, but Silas only bowed. He nodded again, as if to himself this time, and then slipped from the room, leaving Jakob, once more, alone with Corrin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter, guys ^.^  
> Thanks for reading so far. Hope you're enjoying!


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